Why Don't You Get A Job?
by christique
Summary: We all saw it coming... Max finally got fired from her job at Jam Pony. But how will she deal with a new job in... food service?
1. No Hard Feelings

**_Disclaimer:_** **I don't own Dark Angel.**  
**_Story/ Author's Note: _**Alright, so this is a new type of story for me. I had this crazy idea and a strong urge to complain about my job one day, so I thought I'd parody it in writing. This is my first attempt at a comedy-type fic, so be easy, please! I don't know if it's any good, but I absolutely had to get this out of my system! **Warning:** This part has a bit of coarse language, but nothing too terrible, else I wouldn't have written it. It's also a bit rough on Logan, so if that bugs you... sorry? It had to be done.

* * *

"Are you sure it's here?" Max asked into her mini communicator. She was speeding down a slummy street in early-morning Seattle. The sun was just starting to chase away the gray light of dawn. The air smelled fresh and there was a cool crisp breeze playing with her hair as she rode on, but Max noticed none of it.

She was too busy trying to locate the address Logan had her chasing down. Well, Eyes Only had her chasing down. Logan's dual identity as a cyber-journalist did come with its perks, but it seemed to Max like she got the raw end of the deal all too often. _Like hunting for a crook's hideout where he stashes his goods in the middle of nowhere!_

"Yes, it should be just around this next corner. A dirty brown warehouse. It used to produce some pretty good quality tennis shoes back before the Pulse," came Logan's voice over the comm. It sounded muffled with static, but it was clear enough.

"Why is it always a dirty warehouse? Don't you think the bad guys would've learned by now that it doesn't make a good cover for them? It's the oldest trick in the book."

"C'mon, Max. Focus. The destination should be just ahead now."

"Huh, fine," she said grudgingly. Logan always had to ruin her fun like that. "Oh! I think I see it!" _Finally! _

"Good. Now, you know what to do."

"Always."

Max pulled her bike to a stop right in front of a run-down warehouse. Sure enough, it was dirty. It looked like it hadn't been used or cleaned properly in years. _Go figure._

Max silently approached a large open room half hidden in shadows. She cased the place quickly to make sure she didn't run into any surprise visitors while she broke into the stash. This was going to be a speedy, clean, in-and-out operation. _It had _better_ be!_

No one was around, so Max made her way to the back of the room. She pushed past a curtain of dusty cobwebs and wrinkled her nose at the musty smell permeating through the air. "Well, this place sure isn't gonna be featured in the Better Homes and Gardens magazine," she muttered.

Max took out a high-powered mini flashlight and pointed its beam over the walls, scanning for the tell-tale crack she was looking for. "Bingo!"

"You find it?" asked Logan expectantly.

"Well, I found its territory. X marks the spot, ya know?"

Max slid a thin metal pick through the crack and pressed down, prying the wall covering off of a safe hidden behind.

"You in yet?"

"Shh! Girl's gotta concentrate."

Max pressed her ear up to the safe door and started turning the big knob slowly to the right until she heard a soft 'click' with her genetically enhanced hearing. Then she turned it to the left. 'Click!' Right. 'Click!' She tugged on the handle gently, and sure enough, the door eased open under her pressure.

"Ha, gotcha! Easy. 'Kay, Logan, I gotta blaze. I'm already like two hours late for work," Max said lightly into the comm. while she stuffed the contents of the safe into a burlap sack.

Logan sighed in relief. "OK, Max. Thanks a lot. Good job."

Max smiled. "Hey, no prob. What're genetically engineered killing machines for, right?"

"Ha, right. Have a good day. Stay out of trouble."

Max heard Logan disable the communication line, and Max made for her bike. _There's one Eyes Only case closed!_

Just then, the sound of many footsteps caused Max to freeze. "Logan!" she said into the comm. in an urgent whisper. No answer. "Oh, damn!"

"Well, well, well. What have we here? It looks like we've got ourselves a little cat burglar on our turf, boys," drawled a cocky voice from the entrance.

Max turned around slowly to face a tall man with cold eyes and shaggy blond hair, surrounded by a group of three big toughs with scars from old fights and bulging muscles. _Great._

"Oh, this is your turf? Sorry, didn't realize. I'll just leave, then. No hard feelings."

The man sidestepped to block Max's exit. "I don't think so. You've got some things of mine."

"Oh, these? Bought 'em at a garage sale. Needed a place to stash 'em. Saw this place and thought, 'Oh good, a warehouse,' but I guess it was taken."

Abruptly, the man slapped her hard across the face. "Don't be cheeky with me, sweetheart." He paused and looked at her as she glared at him with a hand on her injured cheek. "Shame. Such a pretty cat burglar, too."

"I'm flattered, really," Max spat.

"Give us the stuff, love."

"I gotta go to work now."

"Oh, I was under the impression this _was_ your job. If that's the case, we wouldn't want to make you late. How 'bout you give us the stuff, and then you can be on your way. No hard feelings."

"No."

At her refusal, the man punched her hard in the face, sending her sprawling to the ground. Max felt her anger reach its boiling point. "Actually, I _am_ harboring some hard feelings now." With that, she slugged the blond hard in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. He fell to the ground and made a feeble hand motion to the toughs to attack.

The whole lot of them flexed their arms and closed in on Max. She bared her teeth to them in a feral snarl and took up a fighting stance. As the men threw punches and kicks in her direction, Max sprang into action and deftly blocked or dodged every one. She returned a few punches and well-aimed kicks that soon left all three of the big men heaped on the ground with fresh bruises forming.

Max dusted off her hands and sighed with satisfaction. "A good ass-kicking is such a perfect way to start my day."

She noticed movement on the ground and glanced down to see the blond leader staring at her with a look of bug-eyed disbelief, pushing his upper body upright so that he could see her properly.

"Thanks for the fun! And the goodies. Gotta blaze. Toodles!" She winked and turned to leave.

Max glanced down at her watch and noticed she was now almost three hours late for work. _Oh well, Normal'll just have to deal._ She hopped back onto her bike with the re-stolen goods in the sack strapped to the seat behind her.

* * *

"C'mon, people! Place of business!" Normal walked through the dispatch center with an air of importance, looking for something in all the clutter. "Bip bip bip! These packages aren't going to sprout legs and deliver themselves!"

Sketchy walked by and Normal reached out to hand him a package. "Hey, moron! You seen Max?"

Sketchy looked up, a bit startled to be put on the spot like that, but he opened his mouth for a few seconds before saying, "Uh, yeah, she had to go to this - "

"Ugh, save it. Well, if you see her, tell her to find another job. I don't do this for charity. I don't support delinquents and I can't afford to keep paying deadwood."

Alec stood behind Normal, stifling a laugh. He heard the skid of a bike in the lot and looked up at the entrance where, a few seconds later, Max came strolling in. "Op, I think I found her, boss!" he said expectantly.

"Oh, well, look who decided to grace us with her presence!" Normal spread his arms dramatically in mock welcome."So what were you doing these past three hours? Let's see, so far, I've been told that you caught the bird flu, you were wrongfully arrested, you were attending your uncle's _second_ funeral, and you were being held hostage by thugs at the gas line," he ticked off on his fingers. "Care to clarify?"

Max pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Hmm. Let's go with door number three."

"Oh, I'm glad you think this is funny. Really. It's not like I need money, right? Heck, we could all just go live in a dirty back alley and eat in soup kitchens."

"How 'bout a dirty warehouse instead?"

"Does this warehouse have an unemployment help line?"

Max rolled her eyes. "C'mon, Normal. I'm here, right?"

"Not for long, Missy Miss! You're more trouble than you're worth. You can kiss your job good-bye."

"But Normal - "

"No 'but's! You're fired!"

"You can't be serious."

"Do I look like I'm kidding? Out, out! Shoo, be gone!" Normal shooed her away with his free hand while the other clutched his clipboard.

Max stared in disbelief at Normal's retreating back. Sketchy approached her cautiously. Alec stared in shock, too. He really didn't think that Normal would actually go through with it. He always made threats, but he never acted on them. Until now.

Original Cindy stalked over to where Max was standing. "Boo, you just gonna let him tell you off like that? You go lay the smack-down on his ass! He can't fire you!"

"Ummm, Cindy, he just did. As much as we don't like him, he _is_ still the boss," Sketchy said with a wince.

"Oh, this is _not_ over! Original Cindy is gonna lay it all out for mista big bad boss man!"

"Maxie, just gimme a day and I can talk him into letting you back on. You know how the man is," Alec offered comfortingly.

"No!" Max shouted suddenly. Alec's words made her snap out of her shock. She was stunned, but she hated having to be comforted. She could take care of herself!

"It's OK, I'd do it for ya. I'd even take off my shirt if it'd convince him," Alec said with a roguish grin, waggling his eyebrows and misinterpreting her response on purpose.

Max was in no mood for Alec's jokes and antics. "No, you guys just gotta let it go. I can take care of myself. I'll just go get a new job."

"Max, we can - "

"Girl, Original Cindy's gonna - "

"All we have to do is - "

"I said NO," Max cut them all off. They looked a bit hurt at her sharp response, but Max knew what she was doing. She'd help herself get back on her feet, like always.

Normal's distant shout rang through the building. "Bip bip bip!"

"Thanks, guys. Later."

And with that, Max turned and left her friends to gape at the door.

* * *

Max hopped on her bike and headed for Logan's. She was furious! _In and out, he said. A quick little Eyes Only mission, he said. I just got fired for his fricking mission! The paycheck, the _Sector Pass_! All gone!_ She pulled the bike to a dangerous stop and stormed inside Logan's without knocking.

Logan jumped at the sound of his door banging open. "Max, I'm surprised to see you here right now. Shouldn't you be - "

"At work? Yeah, I should be, except that I just got canned!"

Logan was taken aback. "Oh, I'm sorry, Max. What happene - "

"Your little Eyes Only mission happened, and you turned off the damned comm. just in time to miss the little run-in I had with Goldilocks and the Three Bears!"

"Max, wha - "

"I got ambushed right as I was packaging the goods!" She threw the sack down onto the floor unceremoniously with a resounding thud. "This dumb blond and his three muscle-bound cronies tried to mess me up and take their stuff back, but luckily for me, I'm genetically enhanced to kick ass! Otherwise, who knows what might have happened, huh, Logan?"

Logan was stunned by Max's outburst. He felt awful for breaking the communication line before seeing her safely out of the target place, but he had to quickly cut off so the signal couldn't be traced. "Max, I don't know what to say. I'm so sorry! I had no idea - "

"That I would get mugged? Well, maybe next time you should get me in and _out_ of the mission before hurrying along with your safety features! Scratch that. Maybe you should just count me out of your missions next time, OK?"

A pained look crossed Logan's face as he tried to reason with Max. "Max, wait, you can't just - "

"Watch me." She walked to the door and grabbed the knob. Before leaving, she turned around, feeling a tiny bit of guilt for yelling at him like that. She looked over her shoulder. "I'll get over it, but you just remember this. And don't call me for a while, 'cuz I'm not gonna wanna talk to you for a couple of days, OK?" Then, without another word, Max turned and left a stricken Logan at his computer desk.

* * *

Max filled out applications everywhere she passed on the way home from Logan's. She smothered her anger just enough to appear as if she actually wanted to work at the places she entered. She even swallowed her pride and applied at fast-food joints. _I'll show fricking Normal! I can get a job anywhere if I want to! And he'll regret firing me once he sees how the whole damn place goes down the toilet without me there to bail out his sorry ass!_

The clerk at a cool clothing store was checking her out when she turned in the application. _He's kinda cute!_ She smiled prettily at him, and he smiled appreciatively back. "You gonna work here?"

"Depends. Do I get an employee discount?"

"Huh, if you can call it one. Fifteen percent."

"Cool. See ya 'round."

"See ya."

Max left feeling confident. _Piece of cake! I've as good as got that one!_

She turned in more applications just in case, and called it a day when she got so sick of it that she couldn't even plaster a fake smile on. "I'm beat. Better head home." Max turned to go back to her apartment just as a familiar blond was stepping directly into her path, effectively blocking her. Max's eyes went wide. She pulled to a stop in front of him. _Oh shit._

"Hello, love. Did you miss me?"

SMACK! Something slammed into the back of Max's head, and her world went black.

* * *

**_A/N: _**OK, so how was that? I hope you liked it, 'cuz I'm personally not so sure... I have other ideas for lighter stories, but this one will get... interesting... as it goes. If nobody likes this, no hard feelings (ok, maybe that pun was just slightly intended); I'll just quit while I'm almost ahead. **Thanks for reading** and let me know what you think of this!


	2. Politics

**_Disclaimer: _Dark Angel isn't my baby. **There really is no **Happy Burger** chain that I know of. (don't sue, don't sue!) I made that up. Along with the characters of **Linda Johnson** and **Brandon Taylor**. That's all I own here.  
_**Story: **_Max gets called in for an interview, Sketchy gets drunk, and the plot thickens...  
**_A/N: _**Hey, guys! First off, I'm so sorry for the long wait on this particular update! Feel free to re-read or skim the first chapter to refresh your memories. I'll try not to let writer's block claim the dark recesses of my mind for such a long stretch ever again. It probably doesn't help that I was working on my other story, "MIA," at the same time... Oh well, enough rambling. Here's the next part. A huge **Thank You!** to those of you who took the time to review: **Dazedizzy, candyabble, kimmie, Pai2, **and** ladyfaith. **You guys rock! Happy reading!

* * *

"Unnngh…" Max woke with a groan to the ringing of her cell phone that was tucked inside her coat. Still a little dizzy, she stumbled to her feet and saw that she had been lying out on the open street behind a butcher shop and a little Chinese takeout place. 

She hissed at the sight of a back door with a Chinese symbol opening. A furry blur streaked out of the door down a nearby alley, yowling loudly in alarm all the while. The door opened again to reveal a fat, greasy man hurrying after the cat saying, "Heeere, kitty kitty! Come on! Come ta papa!" Max growled and staggered away from the place while fumbling for her phone in her leather coat. _Gotta shut it up. Won't stop ringing! Damn, my head hurts!_

Max flipped open the phone and blinked at it several times to focus her eyes before attempting to hit the 'receive' button. "Hello?" she said thickly into the phone.

A professional sounding voice answered. "Hello. Is this Max Guevara I'm speaking to?"

"That depends. Who's calling?"

"My apologies. This is Linda Johnson answering a job interview request from a Max Guevara. Is he available?"

_Job interview request? 'He'!_ "Yeah, you're speaking to _her_."

The woman on the other end faltered a bit. "O-oh. I'm t-terribly sorry, miss. How embarrassing! Um… I was wondering if you were still interested in getting the job…."

"What job?"

"The job you applied for. Here at Happy Burger?" the woman said slowly.

Max didn't know why on earth she would have ever applied at the cheesy burger place, but she must've needed a job. In all honesty, she didn't remember. The only thing she was certain of was that her name was Max Guevara, since this Linda Johnson woman reminded her. And the fact that her head hurt like a bitch. As for the 'why' of it…. Max had no clue. But it hurt. Bad.

"Oh. _That_ job. Um, sure. I'm still interested." _I must've applied before… whatever happened to hurt my head. That must mean I need this job. I would only apply there out of desperation, right?_ "Everyone could use money, right?"

Linda laughed lightly. "Indeed. So when would you like to come in for an interview? Is your schedule clear for Tuesday the 15th? Around 9 AM, if that's alright. How's that sound?"

Max couldn't think of any conflicting schedule issues since she couldn't remember having a schedule or any kind of social life to speak of, so of course it sounded fine. "Sounds great. Um… what day is today?"

Linda laughed that little laugh again. "Why Max, it's Sunday the 13th."

"Okay…"

"Is there a problem?"

"No," Max said simply. _Other than my headache._ Her speech was getting more intelligible, so she hoped that the headache would fade soon, too.

"Great! See you then!" Linda said cheerily before hanging up.

"See ya," Max said to the dial tone. She shut her phone. "Now what the hell'm I s'pose ta do for two days before that interview? Hm. Maybe I should find where this Happy Burger place is… or where I live. I do live somewhere, don't I?" She walked off to look for a familiar sight, or some kind of shelter, muttering to herself angrily that it would be much easier to get around with a bike and without a stumble to her step.

* * *

Sketchy, Alec, and Original Cindy sat at a table together in Crash with three big pitchers of beer between them. They were working off their anger at their boss by trying to lose themselves in an alcohol-induced stupor. 

"Man. I can't believe he did it. Normal always complained, but I never thought he'd ever get mad enough to do it," Sketchy mused into his glass.

OC nodded and pursed her lips in a frown. "I know. The man is unbelievable. He threatens my girl every day, an' finally, after 'bout two years of list'nin' to his shit wit nothin' hap'nin' 'gainst her every single time, she does the same thing she's always done 'n' gets the boot. Cheers for consistency, eh fellas?" she said dejectedly, raising her glass in a mock toast.

Alec and Sketchy clinked their glasses with OC's wryly.

"We gotta get 'er back. There's no way Normal can stick with that decision," Alec insisted.

"It ain't fair," Cindy said angrily in agreement.

Silence reigned at the table for a minute until Sketchy, by this time on his fifth round, belched gracelessly and raised his head from the table.

"Hey, guys! I gotta idea!"

Alec and OC stared at Sketchy with guarded expressions. A sober Sketchy came up with outrageous ideas. There was no telling what a _drunk_ Sketchy would think up.

Taking their silence for an urge to continue, Sketchy said, "Remember the time Normal tried to can Herbal for smokin' weed in the bathroom?"

OC shot him an annoyed look. "Yeah, what's ya point?"

Alec, right on top of Cindy, looked confused and asked, "Who's Herbal?"

The two Ordinaries looked at Alec and tried to explain. "He was this rockin' guy from, like, Jamaica - "

" - he was on the Jam Pony crew wit me 'n' this fool an' Max - "

" - and he was performing a religious ritual in - "

" - he was caught gettin' high in the bathroom at JP. Normal got up off his raggedy ass an' fired 'im," Cindy finished to a staring Alec. She turned to Sketchy again. "Now git ta da point, fool!"

Sketchy swayed in his seat and held up defensive hands. "Okay, okay. Remember how we got Normal to take it back?" he slurred excitedly.

Alec's eyes widened. "You mean he hired him back after doing drugs at Jam Pony?" he asked, amazed. He himself had been thinking that anything involving drugs at JP would result in permanent termination. A 'You're fired. Do not pass Go, do not collect $200' -kinda thing.

Cindy's eyes widened as she shared Sketchy's excitement. "Yeah, after the employees all protested with a slow-down! That's what we're gonna do. We gonna go on strike to let him know how much my girl means ta all of us. We gonna give Normal the slow-down from Hell!"

The three friends raised their glasses in triumph to toast once more. Alec's went to the center since his transgenic brain wasn't really affected by the alcohol. A slightly intoxicated OC's glass glanced off the side of Alec's, and Sketchy's glass missed entirely, sloshing alcohol all over his friends sitting across from him.

Alec and Cindy helped Sketchy to his feet, and the trio staggered off arm-in-arm to find the rest of the Jam Pony crew to tell them what was going down.

* * *

**Tuesday the 15th, 8:50 AM**

Max opened the door to the smelly little fast food place. It couldn't really be called a restaurant. It was too grimy and low-quality, so Max just thought of it as a 'place'.

Her head still hurt. Not nearly as bad as before, but the pain was still there. On top of it all, she had butterflies beating around in her stomach. She was nervous. This was her first interview, wasn't it? Whether or not it was, the thought of being interrogated seemed nauseating to Max. Hopefully she could stomach it, both her nerves and the smell of the place. Max felt like she had gained at least ten pounds just by _smelling_ the grease.

Max told the bored-looking cashier that she was there for an interview. The cashier looked stunned. He gathered his wits, eyed her up and down eagerly, and went to go get his manager.

A woman with strawberry-blond hair pulled into a loose bun and a manager's blouse and nametag smiled in greeting. She did a visual once-over of Max, too, before saying cheerfully, "Hi there! You must be Max. I'm Linda. We spoke on the phone, remember?" Max nodded. "Good! Now you just take a seat in the dining room. Feel free to get a drink, and I'll be right out." She handed Max a cup and walked off again behind the flimsy swinging half-door.

Max walked off to the soda machine and filled her drink cup and sat down at a semi-clean table_. Ew, the chair's sticky!_ Now she had time to stew in her nerves. _Great._

Max had crashed at an abandoned motel the nights before, and she was very hungry. It was hard living with no possessions besides her cell phone and the clothes on her back.

She had tried to beg for food, but the good people of Seattle were so selfish and apathetic to the needs of strangers that she was given curses more often than food. So she had stolen some food and claimed the motel room as hers. It was the least the damn city could offer her after the terrible time she had had trying it the honest way. _So much for honesty. Oh well._ If they could be apathetic, so could she.

Linda came out and commenced the interview, asking all kinds of asinine questions about why Max wanted to work there, how she had come across it, and what she could bring to the company. Max noticed the employees all trying to find excuses to go into the dining room to spy on the 'newbie' getting put to the question. Most were male, all of which were bordering on drooling at the sight of her. They hoped fervently that Linda hired this one.

"OK, now what is your favorite color?"

Max stared. "My favorite color?"

"Yes. What is it? Pink? Blue? Red?"

Max wrinkled her nose at 'pink'. "Actually, I like black."

Linda gave a tight smile. "Alright, Max. Then we'll make sure to get you a nice, black uniform! How many hours can you work?"

Max wore a small smile. Thank God that it was over! "However many you can throw at me. How soon can I start?"

Linda looked thrilled. Her eyes practically shone with tears of joy. "Oh, wonderful! You can start tomorrow if you want! Come in at three o'clock, alright?"

"Great. See ya tomorrow."

Max left the place with Linda's and the associates' eyes on her back.

* * *

When Max left, Linda heaved a huge sigh of relief. She felt like crying! This was too good to be true! The girl was perfect. She was just what Linda needed to keep her job. 

Linda's thoughts turned ugly at the thought of her overbearing boss threatening her like that. He had no right! Linda had given almost ten years of her life to this rat hole, and one man was going to send it all crashing down on her head!

Linda's hand tightened around her pen as she wrote up the official paper work to show her boss. This should show him, the arrogant asshole!

He told her that the Happy Burger chain was suffering financial losses due to increased competition and lack of competent employees. And managers. He had made that painfully clear.

Linda was already being run ragged with juggling the marketing job as well as the usual tasks of a Restaurant Manager. Now he was threatening to demote her or flat-out fire her if she couldn't find a competent employee to start turning the place around.

The stupid prick had even given her a list of criteria to match to that employee! And he had put them up to some pretty high standards. His list specified that more people would choose Happy Burger to get their fast food if the employees were attractive, intelligent, had some personality, didn't balk at hard work, and gave a damn about the company.

An added bonus would be if they were willing to work many hours, to devote most of their time to bettering the place and learning its workings. Linda snorted at the thought. _'An added bonus.' More like a 'must', with _him.

He had ranked the traits in that order, making looks the most important thing. That was ridiculous! If Linda interviewed a smart, intelligent kid with a good head and a good set of morals willing to work every day if they could, she would be forced to turn them down if they were ugly! The perfect employee, pushed away if Linda found them unattractive. A load of bullshit. _Besides, beauty is in the eye of the beholder, right? What would happen to me if I hired someone I didn't think was too bad but he found ugly?_ Linda shuddered. Duh, she'd be fired. _Stupid prick, _she thought for about the twentieth time that morning.

The problem was, nobody fitting his outrageous criteria wanted to work at a place like Happy Burger. Hell, practically nobody _existed_ who was both attractive _and_ smart! And even Linda herself felt a little foolish admitting that she had worked at that particular fast food chain for so long.

But then she saw a new application in her office, and she had leapt at it as soon as she glanced at the name, phone number, and clean police record. That had been enough for the time being. She had decided to call for an interview immediately. After all, Linda was desperate, and she hadn't received a single application in months!

Even still, Max was too good to be true. She went above and beyond expectations. She fit all of Linda's ass of a boss's criteria and then some! Max was stunning and intelligent, she definitely had personality, and all signs indicated that she was willing to become a Happy Burger slave for money. Just too good to be true!

Linda whimpered at the thought of it all turning out to be a dream. She prayed she wouldn't wake in her bed to find it so._ Wait... _No, it couldn't be a dream. Her boss was still alive. In her good dreams, Linda was the boss and her current one had died some sort of violent and painful death only days before. Linda was no killer, but it sure would be nice if dreams came true...

"Miss Johnson?"

Linda jerked and looked quickly up from the table where she had been interviewing Max moments before. She felt like she was going to swallow her tongue. "Yes, Mr. Taylor?" she said breathlessly.

"Linda. Thought I'd lost you there, love. You said you had a new face to interview. Mind if I sit in?" It wasn't exactly a request.

Linda kept a smile off of her face somehow at dodging that particular bullet. "Why, Mr. Taylor, you just missed her. It went very well, though. I hired her on the spot!" she said, letting that smile show at her last sentence.

Mr. Taylor glared irritably and ran a hand through his shaggy blond hair in frustration. "Without my clearance?" he said angrily.

Linda shrugged cheerfully. _Damn straight. _"Well, sir, she fit all of your specified criteria. Wasn't that what you wanted?" asked a wide-eyed Linda with feigned innocence.

Her boss scowled at her. "_All_ of it?" he asked disbelievingly.

To think when Brandon Taylor had first transfered to her store Linda had thought him attractive. Then she saw his personality, and it was decidedly ugly. "Well, sir, when she starts tomorrow, you can see if she fits for yourself, right?"

Brandon snorted. "And then what if she doesn't fit, eh love? Not even _I_ can fire the girl without a good reason! She would need to be written up three times before I can legally do that. _You_ however, love, have been written up twice now. If this girl's no good...," he trailed off menacingly. "Let's just say it's three strikes 'n' you're out. Understand?"

Linda swallowed hard. "Yes, sir. I understand."

"Good." And with that, Brandon Taylor, the restaurant's General Manager, stalked off to the office, leaving a trembling Linda Johnson by herself at the table.

_Max Guevara, you had better impress the _hell_ out of Brandon, or else I'm a goner! _

_

* * *

_

**_A/N: _**Well, I hope you liked this next installment! I'm trying to make this move a little faster than my usual writing style allows... Let me know if the pace is too quick/slow/whatever. I love to hear (well, read) from you guys! **Please review** to tell me if I should bother with continuing this! **Thanks for reading!**


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